


Pantry Problems

by ColetheWolf



Series: Smutty Drabbles [10]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom!Stiles, Breeding, Copious Amounts of Cum, Derek Hale Has a Big Dick, M/M, Mating, Rough Sex, bulging stomach, magic werewolf alcohol makes them do it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-15 01:09:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16052330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColetheWolf/pseuds/ColetheWolf
Summary: Stiles grabs a bottle of strange alcohol out of Derek's pantry. Upon drinking it, Derek is sent into a horny rage.





	Pantry Problems

**Author's Note:**

> A drabble. I write them from time-to-time & post them @ halesparked.tumblr.com

Stiles and Derek were the last ones left at the loft for the night. Everybody else had gone out to explore their own individual plans since it was Friday night. Stiles, however, was the only one who had elected to stick around with Derek to help with some extra work since he was the only one without “romantic” Friday date-night plans laid down. 

And of course, Derek was….well, he was Derek. So it wasn’t a surprise that he was going to just hang around his darkened cave of solemn misery for the weekend. It seemed like the only thing that he was truly married to was reading through old books, studying old papers, and researching things on the internet for supernatural case work. 

The hours passed like syrup and the task of supernatural research never got interesting. So in an effort to make things just a bit more enjoyable, Stiles wandered over into Derek’s kitchen pantry to look for something alcoholic. There were some fancy looking bottles tucked away in a rotted wooden crate, with a thick layer of dust coating the intricate glasswork. Yet none of them had brand-named labels on them. 

Stiles sighed out in disappointment, realizing that there most likely wouldn’t be a reason as to why Derek would even have alcohol stored away in his house. Werewolves were perpetually sober. But a little bit of hope was restored when Stiles uncapped one of the bottles and took a whiff—instantaneously smelling the stark aroma of alcohol. 

What was Derek hiding this stuff away for? And why did he even have it stored away somewhere if werewolves couldn’t get drunk? Could they get drunk? What was the deal?

After pouring some of the mysterious beverage into two separate glasses, Stiles returned to the main living area of the loft—determined to get his own little Friday night party started. He kept one of the glasses for himself and set the other down onto the edge of the desk where Derek had his nose practically shoved into the pages of his book. 

“Thanks.” Derek said, absentmindedly. He picked up the glass and downed most of the liquid, not even shifting his focus from what he was reading. 

Meanwhile, Stiles had already finished off his first glass and hurriedly gifted himself a generous refill before settling back over at the couch where tons of papers were scattered about. 

Strangely enough, the beverage tasted like a very watered down apple juice. There was nothing particularly interesting or bold about it. It definitely didn’t taste like any of the various kinds of alcohol that he had snuck behind his father’s back from time-to-time. And yet, the scent of the drink was still powerful enough to basically singe the hairs of Stiles’ nose. 

Eventually, Derek shot up from where he was sitting at the desk —visually frustrated and obviously confused by something. He looked around and picked up his empty glass, taking a whiff of the last couple of drops that remained, and then glared over to where Stiles was sitting. Obviously…something was up. 

And something definitely was…because as Derek stormed over to the couch, Stiles was able to notice the incredibly obvious erection that tightly stretched the course fabric of Derek’s pants. And really, Stiles didn’t know if he was supposed to be excited or terrified of a rugged Adonis barreling his way over with a boner. 

“Where the fuck did you get that?” Derek questioned sternly, grabbing the empty mystery bottle from where it had been set aside on the loft’s cement floor. 

“I found it in your pantry.” Stiles explained, sitting up. “Jesus Christ. What’s got you all hot and bothered?”

“From the crate?”

“What?

“Did you get this bottle from the old crate? The one that was in the pantry?” Derek interrogated, squirming around where he stood. 

Stiles’ eyebrows creased anxiously. “Yeah, there were tons of unopened bottles. Why?”

“You idiot.”

“What? I was just looking for something to make the night less miserable.” Stiles shouted. “It’s not like you were ever going to get around to drinking all that wine by yourself. It was practically coated in several feet of dust.”

Derek spun around with a loud pained whine, combing his hands through his hair, and fighting his urge to bark out obscenities for Stiles’ serious lack in judgement. He caught himself palming at where he was hard and leaking in the front of his jeans, forcing himself to remove his hand and compose himself. 

“It wasn’t wine. It’s stimulant for werewolves. It’s used in rituals for a werewolf’s first official mating. It doesn’t get you drunk, it gets you horny!” Derek growled. “You need to go. I need to—I need—I’m going to—”

Stiles snickered to himself, somewhat in disbelief. He didn’t know if Derek was trying to prank him or something. It just all sounded so stupid. Although, the fact that the bottles had been unused and hidden away had been suspicious. Plus, despite the appalling scent, the drink hadn’t tasted like any kind of alcoholic beverage. So there was a possibility that Derek wasn’t making shit up.

“You’re going to what—? Jerk off or something?” Stiles’ voice softened. He swallowed nervously.

As a human, Stiles wasn’t feeling the effects of the drink. And he wouldn’t ever get around to feeling them. Yet, the visual of Derek jerking himself off was enough to twitch a bit of life down to where Stiles had been soft for the entirety of the night. And what was even worse was that he was pretty sure Derek could smell the creep of arousal.

“If you don’t mind. Yes, I’m going to jerk off.” Derek grunted. “You’re not supposed to keep this shit in your body for too long. And the fact that you let me sit over there with this fucking shit coursing through my blood for over an hour is a problem.”

“How was I supposed to know—”

“You weren’t supposed to touch things in my house!”

“I’ll fix it. I’ll help.” Stiles admitted, not realizing that the word ‘help’ had come spewing out of his mouth as a synonym for “jerk you off”.

Derek didn’t have the time to put up with Stiles’ specific brand of stubbornness. His body was practically aching with heat. He could feel himself leaking a steady flow of pre-cum into the crotch of his pants—soaking the fabric and running down his legs in lewd rivulets. If Stiles wanted to help. He could.

He would.

“Get on the bed. Take off your clothes. Lay on your back. Keep your legs spread and up in the air.” Derek ordered, messily shoving Stiles in the direction of the bed. 

“Wait — what? I thought you just wanted to jerk off?”

“It’s been in my body too long. I feel the release building up. I’ll be sated if I bust into somebody and you’re the only one here. And you owe me.”

Stiles quickly kicked off his shoes and unfastened his pants, shucking them down to the floor, before Derek pushed him back onto the mattress. He didn’t really know what the hell was happening. His cock was just as hard as Derek’s was, but he could feel himself clench at the thought of Derek spearing into his body.

“Dude, do you even have a condom?” Stiles asked. “I can’t just show up back home leaking all your jizz.”

“If you shut the fuck up, maybe I’ll clean you up afterwards.” Derek said, spitting down onto Stiles’ hole. 

It was rushed and incredibly brutal. Stiles hang on for dear life, unable to even articulate the amount of pleasure that he could feel punishing his body. His bones rattled to the beat of Derek’s sinful rhythm. He was practically folded into a pretzel, hanging onto the beef of Derek’s biceps, whilst he looked up into the fierce red eyes of the city’s alpha. There was still a part of his brain that couldn’t quite fathom the fact that he was getting his body rocked by Derek Hale. 

Derek was huge. Sure, Siles had fantasized about it before. He had closed his eyes at night sometimes and imagined how big Derek was under the tight denim that he wore throughout the day. But never in his wildest dreams did he actually think he’d have an alpha’s beer-canned 9 inches rammed up into the virginity of his prostate. 

And not only that. Stiles was fairly certain that the back of his ass was getting beat black and blue as Derek’s goddamn cum-filled baseball sized balls repeatedly struck against him with the thrusts. Forget the fact that he was probably going to be leaking Derek’s cum for a month. How the hell was he supposed to return to school on Monday morning and sit down without wincing in pain during any of his classes? And faking a lacrosse injury wasn’t going to stop him from chubbing up at the thought of Derek’s dick inside him.

“Take it.” Derek grunted loudly, gasping out in delirious pleasure as his rhythm faltered and he felt himself explode inside of the wasted human beneath his muscle. 

Stiles cried out, desperately failing his arms and legs around whilst he felt the head of Derek’s fat cock stab directly into his prostate and blast heat inside. His body shook involuntarily as he tried to get words out of his mouth. But it was safe to say that he had been thoroughly fucked brainless by Derek. The only thing that drooled out of his mouth was incoherent satisfied moans and slurred babbles that only seemed to make Derek unload even more cum.

Derek continued to rock into Stiles’ weakened frame until he felt the boy’s own orgasm pulse wetly in-between where their bodies were plastered together in sweat, lust, and cum. A laugh caught itself deep in Derek’s throat as his hand traced sweetly down Stiles’ stomach —coming down to rest against an obvious distorted swell from where his flood of cum had filled Stiles past his limit. 

As he pressed a calloused palm down against Stiles’ bulged stomach, Derek immediately felt the excess cum ooze out around where his softening cock was still shoved into Stiles’ stretched hole. He watched attentively as his load spewed out to muddy the bedsheets underneath where they remained connected.


End file.
